


i'm still hurting

by carefulren



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Car Accidents, Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, Whump, Whumpfic, idk who's hurting more in this honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: TK's the last to hear about Carlos' wreck, but he's the first to offer to stay the night with him.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand
Comments: 18
Kudos: 386





	i'm still hurting

TK’s the last person to hear about the crash, which he’s going to be pissed about when his heart isn’t threatening to tear at his skin and burst completely through his chest. It’s Probie who tells him, saying it more-so as an off-handed comment. 

“It sucks about what happened to Carlos today,” is what Probie said when he and TK were the last two changing out for the day, and TK remembers feeling suddenly cold from his words. He had asked what happened, yet he doesn’t remember anything past “wreck” and “SUV flipped.” His hearing had faded to a dull ringing with each of Probie’s words, and he moved through the motions of changing as if a puppet on strings, not fully in control of his muscles. 

He’s waiting for Carlos now, standing outside the station, and when the ambulance finally pulls in, his heart stutters in his chest, almost painfully, and he follows it, standing at the back of it, too afraid to breathe as he waits. When Michelle finally opens the back and he spots Carlos alive and well, albeit visibly exhausted and pained, he exhales so deeply, a long sigh that releases all of the tension built-up in his chest. 

“TK? What are you still doing here?” 

He moves forward as his answer, offering a hand to Carlos to help him out of the back of the ambulance, and Carlos takes it, a frown painted tight across his lips, only pulling to a wince when the large step down jostles his fractured ribs, and TK’s quick to drop a gentle hand to Carlos’ side. 

His eyes find the black and purple bruises littering Carlos’ face first, and his gaze trails down, studying the small cuts on Carlos’ neck and arms, stopping where his hand is resting on Carlos’ side. He can feel the bandage through Carlos’ shirt, and he’s slow to bring his gaze up, conflict etched across his face. 

“What happened?” 

“I tried to pull someone over who appeared drunk,” Carlos starts, voice reflecting the fatigue clinging to him. “As soon as I flicked my lights on, he gunned it. I went after him, but I didn’t know he had a friend in another vehicle helping him.” 

“And that lovely friend plowed into the driver’s side of his SUV at a speed close to 90,” Michelle finishes, dropping a gentle hand to Carlos’ shoulder. 

“Flipped three times,” Carlos groans. “And both bastards got away.” 

“Are you...” TK swallows thickly, looking past Carlos to Michelle. “Is he okay?” 

Michelle hums softly. “He will be. His ribs took the worst of it, so he’ll be in pain for a few weeks.”

“And _he’s_ standing right here,” Carlos bites out, pulling TK’s gaze back to his with his voice alone. “Now, again, what are you still doing here? You should be home by now. I heard about the four back-to-back house fires--”

“I’m fine,” TK insists, taking Carlos carefully by the arm. “I heard what happened, and I...” He what? He heard that Carlos was in a wreck, and the mere thought of the one, new constant in his life being hurt, or worse, was enough to almost bring him to his knees? 

“I wanted to make sure that you’re okay,” he finishes softly, and Carlos smiles that intriguing, warm smile that leaves TK weak at the knees. 

“I’m all good, TK. Thanks for checking in.” 

Carlos makes to leave, to carefully tug his arm free because he’s exhausted, but TK’s fingers tighten just a fraction, just enough to have Carlos’ smile falling slightly. “TK?”

“I’ll take you back,” TK starts, moving his hand from Carlos’ arm to the small of his back. “And I can stay the night--”

“--you don’t have to,” Carlos tries, a little unsure of how to approach TK in this almost unreadable state. “I’m sure I’ll be--”

“--I want to.” 

The finality in TK’s voice is enough to have Carlos arching one brow, impressed, a little confused, and entirely too tired to fight this any further, so he shrugs, a mistake because the small movement brings pain bleeding from the seat-belt bruise ripped across his chest. He doesn’t miss TK’s frown, his once soft, determined expression dropping to vulnerable concern, and he motions outside. 

“Lead the way. Strand.”

*****

“Pain meds, water, pillows fluffed,” TK paces the small length of Carlos’ bedroom, mentally ticking off basic caretaker tasks, and Carlos can only watch, eyes half-lidded, favoring his right side to ease some of the pressure off his fractured ribs. 

“TK--”

“Phone set to do-not-disturb,” TK continues, rolling the pill bottle around his hand, bringing it to his eyes, “alarm set for six hours from now for your next dose of--”

“--TK!” 

TK’s steps falter, and he slowly pulls his gaze toward Carlos, brows furrowed. “Did I miss something?” 

“No,” Carlos draws out. “You’ve gone through everything in frightening detail at least three times.” He can’t help the yawn that slips past his lips as he pats the empty side of his bed. “Just, stop pacing and come here. You’re giving me a headache.” 

“You have a headache? Do you feel sick?” TK asks, dropping to the edge of the bed and leaning over to press the back of his hand to Carlos’ forehead, frown deepening when Carlos swats his hand away with a huff. “Carlos--”

Carlos sits up fully, ignoring the dull pain still clinging to every inch of his body, and he leans toward TK, lips pushing to TK’s, a deep groan vibrating low in his throat, and he’s slow to break the kiss, intentionally slow. “If I were sick,” he whispers, hot breath brushing against TK’s lips, “would I be doing this?” 

TK sighs, moving fully onto the bed and dropping against the pillows with a huff. “Sorry, it’s just...” 

“Your dad,” Carlos supplies, easing himself back down against the pillows, sighing quietly. It’s been a few weeks since he’s was woken up to a sobbing, broken TK banging on his door, and he knows that TK’s trying to take care of Owen, but he also knows that TK’s been constantly teetering close to the edge. 

“I’m okay, TK,” Carlos says, turning his head from the ceiling to stare at TK, eyes trailing across the tension jutting out from his jaw and up to his eyes. “And I appreciate all your help, but I’m not sick like your dad.” 

“I know,” TK drags out, draping one arm over his eyes. “I’m just tired of seeing people I care about in pain.” 

“Oh,” Carlos’ voice takes to a light tone, almost singing the small word. “You care about me? Wow, Tyler Kennedy, that sounds like--”

“Shut up,” TK spits out, though there’s no heat to his tone. He moves his arm away, propping up on his elbow, and a small smile pulls at his lips. 

“I’m not in pain, by the way,” Carlos adds, losing his battle against his fatigue with another long yawn. “Because of you.” His eyes flutter shut, and while he misses TK’s smile growing, he doesn’t miss the warm lips that brush against his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of role reversal on your Sunday :)
> 
> Come say hi or drop a prompt off on tumblr! (@toosicktoocare)


End file.
